Mix & Match
by Ah-mandine
Summary: AU- College days. Castiel Novak was content to ignore his feelings for his best friend and roommate, Dean Winchester, but the rest of the world decides to interfere. Destiel, probably Sam/Jess as well later on!
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys!**

**Well, I haven't written a chaptered story for quite a long time, but I'm going to try very hard on this one. It's a bit of a personal challenge, and I'll do my best to keep it updated regularly! **

**It's rated M, because I intend on including some steamy bits here and there. Also I don't know yet how long it's gonna be but I'm going to try and plan it all out in the next few days!**

**I'll need all the support I can get because, my dears, I haven't done that in a WHILE.**

**Now let's go for it!**

* * *

Summer was coming to an end faster than Castiel would have thought. It was already August 15th, supposedly the hottest day of the year and there he was, sitting at his desk, absentmindedly sketching out figures draped in thick material, his hands running smoothly across the paper.  
Summer break or not, there was no way he would stop designing clothes, even for just a couple of days. He was a Textile and Apparel Design major, and he loved it. Every bit of it. This was hardly homework to him.

He could not focus all that well, however, and assumed it was because of that nice, sweet summer warmth seeping in through the window. It made him feel a bit sleepy and although he was definitely not a nap person, eventually, he pushed himself up from his chair and stepped over to his bed.

He did not have to sleep, but maybe a bit of a break would be nice, he thought as he stretched a little. The sun had warmed the sheets he was now pressed down into and that was quite a nice feeling.

Cars driving by and groups of people chattering on the street, little by little, he let the gentle sounds of the city lull him to sleep. A quiet apartment was just _that_ nice, and since he'd started living with Dean, it was also a very rare occurrence.

As if on cue, about ten minutes later, a high pitched laughter broke the silence, followed by the sound of a door being closed.  
Oh well, seemed like Dean with back, with company to boot.

He could hear the two chat for a little bit, and, goodness, Dean had his 'deep sexy voice' thing on, as he liked to call it. (Castiel himself called it the 'moronic jock in rut voice thing', but he had not shared that one with Dean yet.)  
He stifled a faint chuckle and shook his head. Dean really couldn't be helped, could he.

A second later, the two fell silent and all of a sudden, Dean opened the door to his room before barging in. Castiel pretended to be asleep, his eyes closed, making sure to take deep, even breaths. Why would he do that, you ask? Well, one need only meet a single one of Dean's conquests to understand that he doesn't pick them for their outstanding IQ. Castiel was not one to diss people, but... seriously, Dean quite obviously did not believe in mind over matter. And he was not exactly in the mood to try and communicate with today's pick.

That did not prevent Dean from being a good guy, though, far from it, and as soon as he understood his roommate was taking a nap, he shushed the girl that had already started babbling again, and closed the door.

Alright, so this was probably step three of Dean's world reknown plan, also know as his SHAG system. Yes, he did name it that.  
Just for the beauty of it, here comes a brief explanation of the whole thing. S stands for Spot it, H, Hit on it. A, Ask a bit (yes, well, he was starting to run out of ideas). And finally, G, of course, Go for it.  
Just thought that was worth mentioning.

Castiel was thus thinking they had reached step three, though he was not all too sure what there was to ask. That did also mean that the next step would consist in actual 'shagging', and Castiel hoped it would not come all _that_ quickly, because really, listening to stifled moans through the all too thin wall standing between their rooms did not rank first on his fanciest things to do list.  
And yet, he knew better than that. Dean always was a fast one.

The two of them were, as anyone could see, extremely different, and yet that did not make their bond any less strong. Dean was the exact kind of person he loved. He might have been hot headed and a bit of a show off, but Castiel knew that that was mostly an outside thing he did to give some credit to his reputation. To be truthful, he was actually a very caring, loyal and honest person that was just absolutely _incapable_ of lying, and that would do anything for a friend. He was handsome, well built yet not all that full of himself. He had that nice sense of humor and-

"Caaaaas, did you finish my dress yet?" Came Jo's sudden shout through the door.

Right after that, he heard their front door slam, and hell broke loose. Jo then did her one favorite thing to do in the world: she made a ruckus, obviously aimed at pissing Dean off. Which never failed to work.  
The next moment, Dean exploded and started shouting right back at her and they argued like a bunch of five year old kids, the girl from earlier all but forgotten.

Castiel was always pretty amused by the whole thing, and he couldn't help but chuckle when he caught a slightly daring but well placed "So you brought another slut home again" followed by an eruption of shrieks and some more shouting, then a door slamming, and his two friends bickering again.

Well, he couldn't really pretend to be asleep any longer, so he just stood and opened the door to their small living room. They didn't even notice him until he proceeded to clear his throat, too busy fighting.

Once she saw him, Jo squealed and bounced over to jump into his arms and give him a tight hug.

She was the same as ever, a rather petite girl with a strong, boyish personality that shone through her face, through her endlessly questioning, provoking eyes. Having been raised by a very strong mother, in the absence of a father, growing up mostly around the boys from her neighborhood, one could say it was no surprise she would end up so rough and somewhat brutal.  
However, whenever she was around Castiel, she seemed to turn back into a sweet, feminine and chatty girl. She had hugged him countless times, even pecked his cheeks sometimes and cared for him like a mother -or was it actually the other way around?

He had never quite managed to figure out what it was about him that brought out that side of her, but she seemed to see something inside him that he had failed to detect himself, something that made her feel safe enough to let herself be, without pulling up any of her 'manly barriers'. Dean always assumed that Jo did not wear make up. Castiel, on the contrary, knew that she had a bit of a soft spot for cosmetics, even though always managed to make it look discreet and subtle on her face.

One of their shared interest also did a lot to bring them closer together, and that was, their love of clothes.

"Hey Cas, sorry for waking you up-," Dean apologized sincerely, before frowning and pointing at Jo just like a little kid would, "But that wouldn't have happened if that crazy old hag hadn't gone and ruined my plans for the evening. THANK YOU JO."

Oh, so he HAD planned on having the 'shagging' take place that evening. Fast indeed, considering this was the first Castiel had ever seen of that girl from earlier. He tried to think back and see if he had not actually met her before that, but as he was stuck in his musing, the two were back at it already.

"This wouldn't have happened if you weren't such a manslut," Jo deadpanned, her way of officially ending the argument, her arms still wrapped around Castiel's neck as she turned her attention back to him. "So, Cas, how's my dress going?"

Dean rolled his eyes as Castiel chuckled once more, "Oh just leave the poor guy alone with that, he's not your personal fashion designer or something"

Castiel shook his head faintly and smiled at Jo. "No that's fine, it's going well actually. I think I'm mostly done sketching it out already. Wanna see it?"

"Hell YEAH!"

Dean shook his head, pretending to be annoyed by their girly antics but as he watched them hurry back to Castiel's room and to his desk, there was kindness in his eyes.

"Oh my god it's GORGEOUS-"

Cas smiled a little -he had only shown her his first rough, and there she was already.  
He then took out a little diary sort of thing, his sewing journal of some sort. It was full of tiny fabric samples, various textile designs, some of his personal notes on patterns and so on.

"What do you think of that one? I thought cotton might work best for you, it's not so heavy that it'll get us awkward folds but still has enough character, and since you don't like extravagant things I thought we might want to go for a simpler fabric. At least for the body of the dress. Now that's what I picked for the sewn-in belt-"

It didn't take much more than that for Dean to roll his eyes at them once more, and they looked up innocently as he walked out of the room.

"Alright ladies, I'm gonna try and salvage what's left of my chances with Amy. Wish me luck."

They both kept on smiling gingerly until the door was closed, and Jo finally let out a loud sigh, stepping back to let herself fall down onto the bed.

"Man, I thought he'd never leave. And that girl was such a _bitch_." Jo ranted and made a face. "Seriously. I've never seen anything as _frilly_ as her."

"Well, frilly kind of is the right thing to do this summer. Rather trendy."

Jo looked up to him with a tired look before they both broke into laughter. "Cas, you're a hopeless case, you know that?" She chuckled, shaking her head. "Now, we finally got rid of Mr Jerk so let's get down to serious business."

Castiel sighed inwardly but simply resigned himself. He had been struggling with Jo on that one very topic over the last few years, and he now knew better than to try and fight her. She was just as stubborn as Dean was, while he, on the other hand, was rather well known for admittedly being a pleaser.

"Jo-"

"Don't start with that, we both know I was right on this from the start, and if I have to keep telling you for _years_ then I fucking _will_-" She cut him abruptly, that sharp edge coming back to her eyes in an instant, that fighter's resolve. Castiel blinked then merely chuckled.

"No, I mean... I've already given up on that one quite a long time ago, Jo. I was just about to offer you a cup of coffee." He replied softly, though one could see that hint of a smirk on his lips when looking closely enough.

"Sure you were," she shot back with a smirk on her own then shook her head. "Now's not tea time and you know that damn well. That girl from earlier- I mean, aren't you _pissed_?" She went on, her eyes almost furious, but he knew all to well he wasn't the one she was mad at. She did not relax, however. "Every time I see him do that I just want to strangle him, I swear, I mean, how could he not _notice_ after all those years- and he fucking calls himself your best friend?"

Whenever Dean brought a girl home -meaning on a daily basis considering this was summer break-, it all just went down the same. Jo would be restless and downright angry.  
A couple years ago, that had first led Castiel to believe that she held some feelings for his best friend, but he was soon proved wrong. They had all known each other for years -that included Dean, Jo, Castiel but also Dean's brother Sam, having all lived in the same neighborhood-, and that meant they had had plenty of time to learn to know each other by heart, to share one's every secret and then some.

Jo had eventually come to him to ask him straight away, with her usual subtlety, whether he did or did not have a crush on Dean Winchester, and of course, not taking no for an answer. To be quite honest, he had not even _known_ himself the answer to such a question at the time, but he was now quite positive he did like Dean. He sometimes wondered if he had liked him from the start or if Jo's constant nagging about him was what actually what forced him to see him in a new light- but either way, there was now no denying it.

Admitting it did not solve a single thing, however, as Dean was and would always remain a very straight ladies' man (or a 'manslut', as Jo would put it). Castiel had long given up on any hope of having his friend look at him _that_ way, but that was not the case for Jo. She was absolutely convinced that with a bit of pushing, Dean would magically turn gay and beg on his knees to get into his pants, which he honestly had a bit of trouble believing.

"Jo, you do know where I stand on this whole matter," He replied calmly, sitting back at his desk. "It doesn't matter what I think, or how I feel- I don't believe I could change his womanizing habits in the least. It could actually get worse- If I did tell him it bothers me -which it doesn't-, it would only put a strain on him and instead of stopping, I actually think he would choose to see those girls in other places, or potentially even consider moving out." He explained and immediately realized he had been saying more than he had meant to. Jo always knew how to get anything right out of him, whenever she wanted to and as irritating as it was, he knew it could not be helped. One of the downsides of being this close to anyone, quite probably.

On top of being pissed, she now looked downright revolted, and frustrated as well.

"I call bullshit, Cas. It doesn't bother you at all? _Really?_ Did you really think I was gonna buy that one?" She bit out, trying her best to keep it down so as not to be heard by Dean. "Man, you were locked in your room when I arrived, and that bitch was there, and don't you dare tell me you were sleeping, because I know that's bullshit too. Not with that creep squealing out the way she was- no way that didn't wake you up before I did." She noted, and well, he had to admit she was making a point. "Can you please be honest with me for a second? We've been on that thing for months, heck, years, and I think at this point I can at least be trusted with your actual feelings. Or am I wrong about this too?"

"Jo..." He started, and he knew that he just could not go against that. Not when she used that face on him. "Alright- I... Maybe it does bother me... a little." He eventually admitted, sounding defeated. "But as I said, it's not like I can help it-"

"Man, you're not 'bothered', you're freaking miserable and there's no way I'm letting my best friend look like that until the end of times, watching Dean fuck his life away. Literally." She sighed and shook his head. "Trust me on this, Cas, I've got you. I know this guy. I know I'm right on this. I really do."

And there she went again.

"Jo... As much as I'd like to-"

"I know, he's straight, I've noticed too. But I don't think he's _strictly_ straight. And you're not just some random guy, you're his best friend, so that makes you pretty special to begin with," she stated. "Anyway, I'm not really asking for your opinion here."

Cas did not really know how to reply to that one. "Um... thank you? So then please remind me...the reason why we are discussing this?"  
There was really no getting used to Jo's harsh tone. Sometimes, Castiel wondered how she would survive in the social world with such an absence of tact. But then there was Ellen. So he guessed she would be quite alright.

"I'm planning a little something for my whole plan towards 'Dean's Awakening' and I'm gonna need your help on it," she started with no little amount of pride, and Castiel could tell this was bad. It sounded bad, at least. "You won't have anything to do, but agree with anything I'll say. Don't question anything, just go with it. Ok?"

Alright, now this did not sound just bad anymore. It sounded frightening.

"If you promise it won't involve anything of the likes of kissing Dean, hitting on Dean, confessing to Dean, screwing with Dean's love life-"

"It won't even have anything to do with Dean!" She interrupted him. "I promise! It'll be really simple and harmless- and it's gonna be a really awesome plan. You'll love it. Just for one evening, this Saturday actually."

He bit his lips, fidgeting a little with the edge of his chair, knowing this was probably a very bad idea.

"I don't assume you will agree to tell me what this is all about?"

"I'll just tell you one thing," she started, something wicked shining bright in her eyes, "I'm planning one hell of a party."


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, that was fast! Well, it's also quite a short chapter, but I was really excited to write it...**

**I already have quite a big part of the whole story planned out by the way! **

**The next chapter should be pretty short, but the one after that will get a bit more epic, and the fun will begin!**

**Oh and also, I was looking if there was any beta reader around here who would be interested in helping me with that story. Since English isn't my native language, and I know I still make mistakes, I could definitely use some help with the proofreading, as well as an honest opinion! **

* * *

Their apartment was an actual sanctuary to Castiel. After having spent his whole life in his family home, the independence that came with getting to live in his own apartment was exhilarating. That feeling of freedom was truly wonderful, even though he did not enjoy it quite the same way anyone else would have. To him, freedom consisted in much subtler, more discreet acts than going out all night long or bringing a whole garrison of dates over, day after day.  
It was the little things.

Right now was just as good an example as any. He was alone, Dean having gone out earlier to meet someone, and he had been honestly happy even as his roommate had left through the door, sending a smile and a wink his way. Being alone in his very own space was a pleasure he would never tire of.

Everything was delightful to him, even their dear old couch, worn out, adorned in dirty green and faded mustard yellow stripes, the very couch people usually thought of as "ugly as heck". To him, under that warm summer sun, it looked absolutely cozy, the usually sad and lifeless colors now perfect and delicate, not too bright, just comfortable.  
He was wearing a pair of faded jeans, a straight cut that gave his butt a rather decent roundness, as well as a loose gray t-shirt and simple white socks, sitting there with his feet pulled up on the couch. Comfort all around.  
With Dean gone and Jo busy planning her little party thing, the whole apartment was incredibly quiet, and Castiel liked to think he could hear _birds singing_. Now that was a rare thing.

One might have said the weather was a little bit too hot for coffee, but Castiel was not one to get past his usual morning routine and he was currently holding his cup close to his chest, the warmth seeping through his thin layer of clothes. It just felt so _nice_.

Castiel absentmindedly wondered if Dean was going to suddenly burst through the door and disrupt his little peaceful moment -he actually kind of expected him to. Trying to chase the thought away, he just leaned back against the cushions, closing his eyes, doing his best to block out the rest of the world. He licked a droplet of coffee that had settled right over his upper lip, sighing contentedly then tried to solely relax and focus on his own self. The weight of his body, the press of his thighs against his chest, the soft cotton of the couch touching his bare back were his shirt was rising up, he grew aware of all those little things, loving the emptiness that took over his mind just then.

Soon enough, however, his thoughts drifted off and back to Dean.

He was not one to overly question life, or people's ways, or really anything at all, but Dean never failed to intrigue him. More particularly, his dating habits.  
Why on earth did Dean only ever go for extremely short relationships, with unfitting people, to say the least? He could not help but wonder. He'd been trying to come up with the right answer for years now, but he was still left unconvinced by his own hypotheses. Did he not feel worthy of anyone else? Did he not believe he was capable of making a relationship work? Or did he simply not want to bother?

Castiel was still pondering over that question, not too sure which of the two was actually the worse option when his cellphone rang, putting an end to his reverie.

It was Balthazar.

He hesitated a little, staring at the blinking screen. The confusion on his face melted into a mix of reluctance and faint amusement, and he picked up with a sigh. There went his quiet morning.

"Now, Balthazar, did you call to apologize?"

* * *

Dean Winchester certainly wasn't a morning person. Heck, he hated mornings that were spent anywhere but in a nice, warm bed, ideally with a just as nice and warm body pressed against his and the smell of bacon floating about his apartment. Now THAT was a good, normal, proper Winchester morning.

Today wasn't anything normal or usual, though, as he was very far from his bed, very far from bacon, and there were still quite a few hours to go until noon.

Dean was sitting at a table in a cafe he did not even know, slumped in his seat, a rather uncomfortable iron chair, and "gobbling down" -as Cas would always call it- his second caramel latte (with extra whipped cream).

Apart from not being a morning person, he also wasn't all that patient, and he was starting to get tired of waiting for his date. That girl was freaking late.  
He could tell, obviously,because he had arrived late as well and yet he was still waiting for her. Damn.  
Well at least that caramel thing was good.

That Amy girl from two days ago had definitely not appreciated Jo's little introduction, and as much as he had been looking forward to taking it to the next step with her, well... The second she had called his childhood friend a "bitch", while Dean had tried to apologize and make things okay again, he knew they were done. No one called Jo a bitch, even if she truly was one.

Dean was frustrated nonetheless and could not see himself spent a whole other week in an empty bed, so there he was again, on the hunt.  
Today's girl was a cheerleader he'd met once after a game. He had written down her number without thinking much of it, and he'd found it the previous night in his favorite jeans' back pocket.

He was starting to get seriously bored when he felt his phone vibrating and he immediately pulled it out, hoping it wasn't that girl bailing out on him.  
He blinked at his screen. It was Jo.  
One text was enough to get him worried as Jo wasn't usually the texting type, but when he read her message, Dean couldn't help the grin pulling at the corners of his lips.

_Hey, jerk.  
__Party at my place, Saturday night. Mom's gone for the weekend. You better come._

He chuckled as he texted her back and did not have to wait long to get his answer.

_Wow, missing your manslut already?_

_I didn't wanna invite you, you ass. Cas forced me to. No choice.  
__Come if you don't want me to break both your legs.__  
_

Dean blinked at the mention of Cas and forced himself not to think anything of it. She was just joking. Nothing more. No crazy subtext.

_Aw, I feel loved. Ofc I'll be there  
__Nothing I wouldn't do for my two girls ;)__  
_

The very second he sent his text, a short brunette stopped by his table and smiled down to him, though not before checking him out thoroughly. He smirked back. Well, she had taken her sweet time.

"Hey there. Ruby, right?"

* * *

Thoughts were swarming behind her eyelids and so Jo took a deep breath, let out a gigantic sigh and just went back to doing the dishes. She'd been constantly planning for that party and she just couldn't get it out of her head. It had got to be perfect. She couldn't mess it up.

She had her earphones on, her eyes closed and she swayed softly to the music, trying to relax, washing and drying away as she mouthed the lyrics silently.

_Sing from the piano,_

_Tear my yellow dress and-_

"Now that's a classy way of doing the dishes," her mother's voice cut through the air, teasing and obviously amused at the face Jo made when she plucked the earphones out in one swift movement.

Jo almost dropped the plate she'd been cleaning.

"_Mom!_" Jo practically whined, and this time Ellen could not hold back from laughing.  
She put the plate away to safety into the cupboard that was located above the sink before turning around.

Her mother was standing right behind her, looking strong and tough and stern as usual. There was one thing, one single thing that Jo hated and it was currently painted across her face. Whenever Jo looked at her mother, whenever she looked into her eyes, she could see a hint of sadness in there that never failed to make it seem like she was about to burst into tears.  
But she never did, of course she didn't, and Jo always felt stupid for imagining it.

Ellen acted as though she had not heard her daughter's complaint and she simply smirked a bit wider.

"Just wanted to tell you to make sure not to burn the whole house down this weekend while I'm gone, sweetheart. Think you can do that?"

Jo rolled her eyes at her but chuckled and nodded anyway.

"I was just thinking of that actually. I was wondering about who I should invite to the party. It's just a small thing anyway, just a get together to cheer up Cas a little, you know?" She explained.

In response, her mother just frowned a little bit, and there it was, back on her face, that sad, depressing look. She smiled again though and patted her head, telling her to "just be safe" before telling her she had to go meet Bobby for dinner, and the next moment, she was gone.

Jo had seriously no idea what she had meant by that, but she nodded again anyway.

Her latest party had been quite eventful. She really did hope they did not set the house on fire this time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi guys!**

**Here I come again!**  
**Ok, so I'm trying to keep this little guy updated regularly, but I sometimes take a bit of time trying to figure out what to do next! (...and getting distracted on tumblr, also...)**

**By the way, I'm open to advice as always, and still looking for a beta!**

**Now, you guys go and enjoy a bit of Dean/Cas interaction ! :D**

* * *

"Hey gorgeous," Dean exclaimed then proceeded to slam their front door closed loudly, for good measure. Cas was a quiet guy, so yeah, he needed a little noise in his life, Dean thought, until Castiel turned around from his spot on the couch and Dean actually noticed the phone in his hand, and the murderous intent in his eyes.

Thank goodness, Dean was too handsome to be hit in the face with a machete.

"Yes, Balthazar, that was Dean," Castiel went on with his conversation as Dean shrugged his jacket off and dropped his keys on their coffee table, right in front of where Cas was currently seated. "No, Balthazar, I highly doubt that Dean _will_ care, but I shall pass it on to him anyway." Dean raised an eyebrow as he slumped down on the couch and pulled his feet up on the table.

"Balthazar sends his regards." Castiel stated, turning his eyes to Dean and looking absolutely unfazed.

"Yeah, I don't care."

"He does not care," Castiel replied instantly, earning himself a chuckle from Dean. "And for the record, he's going to take his dirty boots off the table on which I sometimes put the _food I eat right this instant_."

Dean blinked at that and he was about to send Castiel a glare, he really was, but the reason why he mumbled and sheepishly took his feet of instead was merely because he was a civil person and clearly had nothing to do with being _whipped_ or Castiel being an impressive fucker.

Castiel had just kept on with his conversation while Dean reluctantly kicked off his boots and took a cushion from the couch to lay on the table, THEN put his feet on it. When he expectantly turned his eyes back to Cas, he looked like a little boy that had got grounded and was seeking his mother's forgiveness.

Castiel inspected Dean's socks rather suspiciously from his spot on the couch, probably gauging the amount of bacteria they contained per square inch and trying to assert whether or not he'd have to bleach the cushion after that.  
After a few seconds of scrutinizing, he gave Dean his assent through a pat on the head and a smug little smile that did _not_ have Dean sigh in relief.  
And even if it did, it was a very masculine sigh.

Dean's policy stated that every apartment in the world required the presence of at least one messy pig, and well, since Cas was already busy filling the spot of the 'Sewing major guy' in theirs, Dean had graciously accepted his role.  
He put a lot of dedication into it and every day, he reverently dropped socks, empty beer cans and other various manly, dirty belonging all over the place. He made sure to constantly have dirty dishes in the sink, left the refrigerator's door open from time to time (he took notes on a calendar so that not a week would pass without its rightful Refrigerator's Door Day), hell, he even sometimes spilled some stuff here and there, overzealous as he was.

And that never failed to get Castiel's motherly instincts to come out. He would roll his eyes, clean, wash, and sweep like a madman and act just like a mom. Dean loved it. He missed his mom.  
Not a single day passed without Dean getting scolded for making a mess, and he loved those moments.  
He would just put on a sheepish look and listen to Cas's rant, and whenever he eventually went out of his way to fix the mess he had made, his roommate never failed to congratulate him and reward him for it.

Of course, it was a lot of work and it did drive Cas crazy sometimes, making Dean look like the bad guy. But it also provided Cas with the impression of being in charge, and as for Dean, he was rewarded with the feeling of being looked after and pampered like a kid.  
It was awesome.

A part of his brain called it "unhealthy" and "twisted" and "kind of sick" and since that part of his brain was pretty nasty that list didn't stop there.  
Another part of it, though (the nice and sensible one, quite obviously), called it "bringing balance to their living space".

So yeah, he was pretty much a gentleman disguised as a pig, he mused. That was one epic mental image.

In the meantime, Castiel had put an end to his call and he was now watching Dean with a faintly concerned look, which had him wonder how long he had actually been stuck in his own little world.

"Hey, so you're talking to Balthazar again?" Dean asked, and then mentally slapped himself for how girly that sounded. Man, Cas did so _not_ bring out the best in him.

"Yes, that would seem like it," Castiel replied, seeming to ponder over it a little. "He apologized for... his previous behavior." He added, picking his words carefully.

Dean just frowned at that. Balthazar and Castiel had been friends since they had started college, they were in the same class after all and for some reason, the way Balthazar acted around Cas never failed to piss him off. He was too damn familiar... without having _earned_ the right to be that familiar. He treated Cas like a fucking _lady_. Dean didn't like it.

"Why did you guys fight again?" He asked, not remembering Castiel ever mentioning the actual reason why they had actually stopped talking a couple weeks ago, though he quite honestly hadn't really wanted to know.

Cas stiffened slightly at that and just shrugged, looking away.

"Nothing much, he'd simply managed to get on my nerves again, somehow... You of all people should understand that." He replied, causing Dean to grin widely.

"Oh yeah. Man, I know that prick's your friend, but damn he can get annoying."

Castiel chuckled at that, seeming to relax a little.

"Yes, that he can be... Well, you will have to deal with it, though, because Jo told me to invite him to Saturday's party." He explained with a faint smile. He was now lying back into the couch, tilting his head a little and looking somehow a bit more like... well, like Dean.

Dean, however, could not help but make a face at that.  
Balthazar, coming to a party? Now that just plain sucked.  
But well, if Cas could bring Balthazar, Dean guessed he could also bring Ruby.

Cas could probably sense his roommate's man-period coming up though, and he wisely decided to change the topic of their conversation.

"So... how did that date of yours go anyway?"

Dean grinned and looked down almost bashfully. Yeah, he was a bit of a girl, so what.

"Weeeell, I guess it was pretty decent. She's less of a bitch than, uh, Amy, and... I think this one might be able to put up with Jo's harassment."

Castiel's eyebrows shot up at that.

"Alright, I'll deduce from that that she is either, in truth, a terrifying monster, or that she has absolutely no survival instinct."

Dean chuckled at that -yeah, at least he wasn't _giggling_ yet- and shook his head.

"A bit of both probably. And I met her at a basketball game last month."

"Can that one hold a conversation?"

Dean had to stop and think about that for a second. He winced, then smiled sheepishly.  
"Well... I guess that if it's about clothes... she should manage?"

"That will do," Castiel chuckled back and Dean was rather glad.  
Sure, the girl wasn't the love of his life but if she could get on at least decently well with his best friend, he would definitely appreciate it.

"This time, I'll introduce her to you _before_ I bring her here, Cas, promise," He joked.

At that, Cas looked like he was about to say something in return, something definitely not funny, but he just seemed to somehow... pull it back in, and gave him that serene smile of his instead.

"Hey, I'm actually getting hungry. Would you like to go and grab something together?"

Alright, this was the one reason why Dean _loved_ Cas. He wanted to change topics? He picked food. He understood Dean's constant craving for food. Good food. He liked food. He could cook food. Therefore, he had earned Dean's unconditional and unquestioning love in the blink of an eye.

"Now we're talking. I only had two caramel lattes, a hot cocoa and a piece of cake at that cafe earlier, and it wasn't even all that good." He mumbled. "Roadhouse?"

"Roadhouse it is."

* * *

The Roadhouse was a sort of cozy bar slash restaurant that served the most ridiculously delicious burgers and fries Dean had ever tasted, not to mention their pies. And their muffins. And their milkshakes. Their cinnamon rolls. Hell, even their salads were good (because people like Sam needed to eat too).

Could Dean be considered a food fiend?  
That wasn't even a decent question.

As everyone in town knew, the Roadhouse was owned by Ellen, who lived upstairs with her daughter Jo and was definitely not the kind of person you wanted to piss off.

She was also sometimes called the 'Queen of all MILFs' and that was just _wrong_ to Dean on many levels.  
She was a bit of a mom to him, whenever he missed home a little too much, and she also loved Cas to bits. She was just perfect. Except maybe for that big mouth, a trait she totally shared with Jo.

"Hey Ash," Dean called out when he spotted his slightly quirky friend sitting at a table by the door, his usual spot. "Can't see the Kraken anywhere. Is she out or something?"

"Yeah, she said she had some stuff to deal with for the party or something," Ash replied and slowly looked up from his computer, to beam out a smile to both boys. "Hey Cas."

Castiel was just about to respond to that, when a pair of arms appeared out of nowhere to pull them into a hug. That crushing hold of death could not be anyone other than Ellen herself. Ash knew better than to interfere with the mommy bear nursing her cubs, and he went back to his programming.

Ellen eventually pulled back, ruffling their hair in the process -which actually felt a bit more like she was trying to pull it all off their heads- and gave them a sort of worried grin, something only she could pull off.

"Boys, it's been a while. I was almost starting to feel lonely there." She teased, pulling them both off to a table close to the counter. "Jo said you screwed up with a girl again. Good job Dean." She stated in that nonchalant Harvelle way, and before Dean could say anything in his own defense, she had already turned to Cas. "How about you boy? Your dad said you hadn't been back home for a while."

Dean had to bark out a laugh at that.

"Bobby said that?" He chuckled, putting his menu down -he had it memorized by heart, yet he still read it every time he came down there. "Awww, how sweet. He misses his baby boy," he teased, winking at Cas and laughing when the boy kicked him under the table.

After glaring at Dean rather pointedly, Castiel turned back to Ellen and offered a small smile.

"Yes, well, truth is... I've been trying to have him get used to my not living there any longer. I know he is having a hard time getting accustomed to it, but... I think I needed that bit of freedom, and to try and take care of myself a little..."

Ellen just smirked at that. "I think you spend more time taking care of that big idiot there than worrying about your own self." She said softly. "Anyway, just remember to give him a call from time to time, sweetie, okay?"

In the next five minutes, she was already off with their orders and back behind her counter, giving them some peace and quiet.

It didn't take long for the new waitress -Bella or something- to bring back their food, and it was only a matter of minutes before they were both moaning around mouthfuls of cheese and bacon and steak and _glory_ and bickering like little kids.

Scarfing down heavenly burgers, getting pampered by Ellen, chatting and fighting with Cas over the silliest things, all while still enjoying the goodness that was summer break and the prospect of an incoming party...

That was an evening like Dean Winchester liked them.

And considering what hell was coming next, he had better enjoy it while it lasted.

* * *

**Let me know how you liked it please :D I'm struggling a little, so encouragements/ideas are definitely welcome! (Though I *do* know where this is going. Even though it doesn't look like it one bit.)**

**Anyone else melts for Bobby being Cas's dad? Anyone? Or do you guys hate me now?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys!**

**First off, to those of you who left me a review on chap.3, THANK YOU SO MUCH. That was super sweet and much needed! I'll get to writing a few more drabbles to thank you guys because it really helped a lot with getting the motivation to write this chapter!**

**Now I'm slowly starting to get closer and closer the situation I wanted to create around Dean and Cas. In this chapter, you'll get a little bit of insight on Dean's way of thinking and his... 'mental state', sort of, and it's something I really really wanted to write about. I want to get him to evolve and figure some things out throughout this story, but for this to happen, I needed to establish some sort of a stable base for him, and well... here we go!**

**Let me know what you think of it? And whether or not you think Dean is an ass. Or a moron. Or a bit of both.**

**(Btw, still looking for a beta reader! Or anyonw who has contacts among the SPN script writers. *wink)**

**Love you all!**

* * *

There weren't so many days left before the party, but they passed by way too fast, were extremely confusing, and Castiel spent them wondering whether his whole life was nothing but a strange dream, or if this was all just a mere illusion.

The thing was... Dean. Just Dean. Dean was the problem.

Dean was not being Dean. Or rather, Dean was being undean.

First off, he was touching Castiel. _Constantly._ Now Dean had always been a little touchy-feely, obviously something he took from Mary, considering John was just as affectionate as a dead tree, but never before had he touched Castiel that much.

It had all started while Castiel had been working on finishing Jo's dress. Castiel was always very focused whenever he worked on clothes. Until then, Jo's dress had been a bit of an excuse for them to meet up and discuss their "Dean-business" without attracting any unwanted attention, but he still fully intended on finishing it for her, knowing she would be delighted. He had been drawing out his final pattern, then cut out his fabric the previous night, sewing together the main parts -that included the sleeves, the one and only thing he infinitely _loathed_ about clothing and wished he did not have to _ever_ deal with. That only left a few hems and some readjustments to do in the morning and he honestly believed he could achieve it by noon, with a bit of coffee probably to fight off the exhaustion. Then again, what he had not expected was Dean.

He had not seen nor heard him step into his room, but he surely felt his impressively strong hands land on his shoulders, surprisingly gently, and he jumped so high in his chair it made Dean chuckle. (Castiel, not so much, as he looked down to his now miserable, screwed up hem.)

"God, man, you're so _tense_ I swear you're gonna get stuck like that if you keep going," Dean said in a light voice, his hands not moving from an inch.

Castiel sighed and without thinking, he leaned back a little -and thus pressed back into _Dean_ and yes, that was a startled gasp he had to swallow back down.

"I haven't been working that long..."

"You've been at it all night."

"How would you know?"

"You went to the kitchen. To get coffee. Seven times."

"Oh."

Castiel blamed it on their coffee maker for being as old and loud as a WWI plane on a good day. "Sorry if I woke you."

"If?" Dean chuckled again, and this time he moved and his hands moved too but they did not move _away_, they moved _into_ his shoulders and in circles and Castiel frowned deep as he could.

"Man, if that wasn't enough, I could hear you _mumbling_, you sounded just like the crazy old dude that stands in front of that Walmart every Tuesday." Castiel cringed at that, and even though he couldn't see it, he could _feel_ Dean's grin widen.

"Tired much?" He whispered and Castiel couldn't help a shiver, and he cursed himself because with his hands on his _shoulders_ there was no way Dean had _not_ felt that, but yes, he shivered anyway. Dean standing behind his back. Dean whispering to him. Dean touching his body. Those three things were on Castiel's Christmas list every year, yet had he known getting what he wanted would end up feeling that awkward, he would have asked for cookies, coffee and a cold shower instead.

He was trying to think of a way to get away from this -as well as a good reason why he would actually want to get away from this- when Dean leaned forward and tilted his head, so that he was now hunched above him and looking down, right into his eyes.  
With this wonderfully toned chest of his pressed right into the back of Castiel's head. Christmas was so happening.

"How about a massage, uh?" Dean said -by then Castiel's thoughts were on mute- then leaned back again, not waiting for his roommate assent to start moving those god-sent fingers across Castiel's back and shoulders. "I give killer massages. I've practiced on my mom for _years_ and you look like you could use one."

What came next was just as good as the opening scene of a very badly directed pornographic movie -Castiel was actually kind of expecting someone to yell "cut!' anytime when Dean's hands started moving way _down_- and when Dean's phone loudly interrupted them and put an end to that scene that came from _absolutely_ _nowhere_, Castiel was not sure whether he was actually feeling relieved or depressed.

A bit of both, really.

Things got crazier then.

Dean got _sweet_.

Alright, Dean was a sweet person to begin with, all in with good intentions and adorable little things here and there, despite the occasional dirty sock lying under the couch or the much dirtier dishes filling the sink (all the way up).

But he got sweeter than before. He _noticed _things. Castiel being tired, Castiel not having eaten lunch, Castiel feeling a bit down after Ellen's mentioning Bobby, Castiel not going out for his usual jog that evening. Had Castiel been a girl, Dean would have had his menstruation cycle memorized.

That day, when Dean went out for lunch, he brought Castiel something back -his favorite sandwich from that baker down the street- and he did it every single other day of the week, too.

He went grocery shopping. Which he had not done a single time in the last three and a half months.

Things got downright ridiculous when, on that one evening, he actually offered to watch a movie together, let _Castiel_ pick it -which meant romantic comedy, which he absolutely hated- and went as far as letting Castiel fall asleep on his shoulder and not wake him up, even an hour and forty eight minutes after the movie finally ended. He did not complain about it when Castiel eventually returned to the world of the living (a mentally freaking out in every possible way Castiel), had not mentioned it a single time since then, and had offered a laid back "man, you seemed so damn tired, you got to sleep more, Cas" and a shrug as the only explanation.

Castiel was clueless. The list went on and on from there and he genuinely did not know what to think.

Dean had always been good to him, but now that was a bit much. It was all strange and unexpected -and rather nice, too, of course, but Castiel knew better than to get his hopes up.

Dean's thought process was rather close to that of a kid, and for that reason, Castiel was a worried that his friend was actually hiding something very big and very bad from him and trying to apologize about it ahead of time.

Or was he feeling bad about something he had done already? Was it maybe because of last time, with that Amy girl? Was Jo's constant ranting finally getting to him?

It felt somewhat wrong to see Dean as this kind of person, though, and Castiel eventually just dropped it altogether, forced himself to try and see this all as nothing but little acts of friendship, and ultimately, simply enjoy it without questioning it.

* * *

Dean had no clue what the _hell_ was going on. Or rather, what the _hell_ he was doing.

He'd been all over Cas. For days. In a way that even he would have qualified of "way over the friendly limit". And a lot more often than he usually would.

Whenever he tried to find a good reason behind this recent change, the one thing that came up was... Ruby.

He was actually feeling guilty for inviting her to Saturday's party, without telling Cas or Jo about it. Well, mostly Cas.

At first, he hadn't really meant to invite her, honestly, he saw her as an okay girl, a hot one, for sure, but apart from that, he couldn't really see himself enjoy nice sleep overs with her, movie nights and dates at the restaurant and running across a field, hand in hand and into the sunset and giggling and sharing deep and girly secrets together -all those things that two people needed to share and do together in order to qualify as a couple. What he and Ruby had together was entertainment. Fun. Just that. Which was good enough. He had had no intention to take her to Jo's place.

Until Castiel decided to bring Balthazar.

Dean hated the guy with all he had. He really did. He hated that familiarity with which he talked to Cas. He hated the nicknames. He hated the smiles. He hated the touches. He hated every single thing that Balthazar did to make it _seem_ like they were together, which he knew they weren't. He'd always suspected that Cas was gay -he was a _sewing major for God's sake_-, and he honestly didn't mind it, but somehow, he truly despised the way Balthazar kept making him _look_. Like they were a damn couple and Cas was okay with it.

So yeah. Dean may or may not have had the temper of a five year old, but he'd reacted by texting Ruby at the speed of light anyway and within an hour, he had a date for Saturday's party.

And then, about a fraction of second later, he had felt all the guilt in the world come crashing down on his shoulders.

Alright, he _knew_ he and Cas were _not_ dating. Or anything of the like. At _all_.

But Dean wasn't an insensitive jerk, despite what Jo and Sam constantly said about him.

He had this sort of... of feeling... according to which Cas had a sort of... crush on him. Maybe.

He knew it could not possibly be true. He also knew just how arrogant and fucked up it sounded and how much of an asshole believing this made him out to be. The thing was, he didn't _really_ believe it. It was just a sort of _fantasy_... Well, 'fantasy' made it sound bad, it wasn't like the thought of Cas liking him made him horny or anything, it was more of an... ego-boosting kind of thing. Yeah. Well now that sounded worse.

But basically... Contrary to popular belief, Dean did not exactly shine with self-confidence. To be quite honest, his self-esteem was actually rather low, and he did not know when he had started doing that whole thing where every single glance from Cas had got to mean _something_, but part of him swore it _did_ and somehow... Somehow it made him feel good. About himself.

As bad as it sounded, it made him feel like Cas was... won over, or something. Like he was on his side, for good, and wouldn't ever leave him. It wasn't a feeling that required any following through, it was a feeling that left him content with the way things were, that little domestic life, that sick fantasy according to which he and Cas were good old friends that lived together, and Cas was kind of pining on him, and he was being the good guy that knew it but acted as though he didn't and let them go on with their little routine.

Then there was that other side of him, thebrainy one, that _knew_ how pathetic it all seemed, that knew it was not true, that knew that Cas quite definitely did not _like_ him, that knew it wasn't anything more than an illusion, a sort of dream. The upside of this was that since Cas did not like him, their friendship was not endangered, and they didn't have any problem to face.

What he had not realized was just how self-destructive that whole set of mind was. The part of him that knew this to be nothing but a miserable dream was drowning in low self-esteem, partly driving him to go and date those countless faceless girls, and bask in the reassurance they offered. The part of him that did believe, however, had him go crazy with guilt (because, if Cas truly had a crush on him, then dude, that would have made him the king of jerks for bringing all those chicks home day after day and making out with them right under his nose). And in the end, admitting that all of this was actually going on inside his head would have meant admitting that he was an egoistical, vain moron with absolutely no self-worth, that couldn't see further than the safe little world he had created around himself.

Either way, he was feeling guilty about _something_, and that _something_ had to do with bringing Ruby to the party and Cas and he did not want to look into it any longer because he was getting a headache, and self-introspection definitely wasn't his thing.

So he was just going to deal with in Winchester style : turn a blind eye to it all and pretend he knew what was really going on, and that all that touchy-feely crap was nothing more than some nice and healthy friendliness on his part.

'Healthy'. Yeah.

God he hated himself.

* * *

Saturday evening had finally come, with all the trouble it would eventually bring, yet at this point, Dean and Castiel were barely finishing getting ready to go.

Castiel slid Jo's dress into a paper bag, and had one last look at the mirror to make sure he was all nice and ready before actually leaving.  
Somehow, Dean's affectionate behavior had been getting to him, and he ended up wearing nicer clothes than he had intended for the party. He had no reason to, really, no one to please, but it still felt like the right thing to do, and so there he was, wearing his nicest flannel shirt over a rather fitting black t-shirt, and his favorite pair of tight faded jeans. Well, at least, he knew Jo would appreciate the effort, as she'd been bugging him about those jeans for _weeks_. They apparently did things to his butt, according to her.

When he grabbed his keys then walked into their living room, he noticed that there was something off about Dean by the way he just sat there, on their couch, fiddling with the hem of his very own shirt.

"You haven't changed yet?" Castiel asked softly, not wanting to surprise his roommate as he seemed deep in thought, yet just as expected, Dean did jump a little before looking at him with a very... very strange look in his eyes.

"I, uh... no. Um, I think you should go ahead, 'cause I... I still got a few things to take care of before I leave so... Yeah." He choked out all too fast, looking everywhere but into Castiel's eyes. "You go ahead and I'll meet you there, ok?"

Cas wanted to argue, but that look on Dean's face dissuaded him and he simply nodded.

"Alright. Then I will take my leave now. I will see you there, Dean," he replied gently, patting his friend's forearm as he passed him by on his way out, then closing the door quietly behind him.

Dean sighed and took his head in his hands, muttering a curse. There was no getting out of that one.


End file.
